


Imperfection

by UninspiredPoet



Series: Lacrymosa [7]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Canon Implied/Referenced Suicide, Comfort Sex, Established Relationship, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-13 16:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21172970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UninspiredPoet/pseuds/UninspiredPoet
Summary: Sylvanas has returned from Icecrown Citadel and Jaina has received word of what may have happened there.She means to confront Sylvanas as to what her intentions were. She is angry. She is hurt.And she can't imagine living in a world without Sylvanas in it, anymore. Regardless of what that means for either of them.((Disclaimer: My not-for-profit transformative work is only published by me on Archive of Our Own. I do not give my consent or authorization for it to be reproduced or displayed on any third-party websites or apps.))





	Imperfection

**Author's Note:**

> A year ago today - I published the first chapter of Lacrymosa. 
> 
> I wanted to re-visit this world as a thank-you to everyone who has read this fic and any other work of mine as a result.

  
[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161614435@N03/31672244908/in/datetaken/)  


Why?

That was a question that kept running rampant through Jaina’s mind when it wasn’t clouded with the suffocating feeling of betrayal that threatened to drown her in her every waking moment. 

_Why?_

That was the question she’d come here to ask. That was the question that drove her to keep walking through the ghosts of her past, figuratively and literally, as she made her way through the ruins of Lordaeron. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_“Lady Jaina, I don’t know. All I know is what was seen and reported. I can’t tell you anything more. I’m sorry.”_

_Jaina felt her jaw clench as she nearly broke the quill in her hand. _

_“You have no details? Nothing? And what do you mean she just ‘came back’?” _

_The spymaster winced visibly as he shook his head. “I don’t know, my Lady. I don’t know how one would survive a fall like that.”_

_Jaina wanted to shake him. She wanted to scream at him that it was absurd to suggest that Sylvanas Windrunner would have **fallen** from the Citadel. That he could never understand the gravity of his words. _

_“My source was certain she had perished, yet we’ve received reports she is back in the Undercity even as we speak. Beyond that, I’m afraid I have nothing.”_

_“Very well.” Jaina gestured towards the door as she felt her stomach start to turn. She only just managed to keep her composure until he was out of earshot._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaina dug her fingertips into the damp stone she’d paused at. To compose herself. To question why she hadn’t yet encountered any wards. Yet, when she reached out again - she sensed something entirely different. 

Something so utterly foreign she was already gripping her staff tightly as the wind whipped her cloak and the light drizzle of rain threatened to blind her. “Show yourself.” She said - sounding considerably more confident than she felt. 

A Dark Ranger, perhaps? No...no, they would have already reported her presence to Sylvanas. They wouldn’t be...stalking her like this. They had an arrangement, damn it. 

She didn't receive a response so much as the very real feeling of being judged. Weighed, somehow. Any shields she had up seemed to be no obstacle. And the feeling was getting closer. Becoming all-consuming.

Her heart stopped for a moment when it came into view. One of Arthas’ monstrosities. Larger than life and solemnly silent as it hovered where it had appeared. Jaina gritted her teeth as she tugged at the weakened and sickened magics around her and readied herself for a fight. She had no time to discern why one of his twisted amalgamations of something once beautiful was here in Lordaeron. This wasn't what she had come looking for. And then another one appeared, beating her wings to slow her descent so powerfully that it knocked an unprepared Jaina back a few steps and into something very real. Something very solid. Something that wrapped a cool hand around her upper arm to hold her stead and turn her around. 

“Now, now, silly mage. I'm afraid you might not find that fight so easily won. Be easy. Your fight is not with them.” Sylvanas pauses for a moment as she felt the energies swirling around Jaina subside, but not abate entirely in response to her presence. “Oh, but what a greeting after so long apart.”

Jaina took a quick step back and narrowed her eyes as Sylvanas’s hand fell from her arm. “What did you expect?” Her tone was bitter. Her voice, slightly raspy. Once upon a time, Sylvanas might have acknowledged that she'd likely been crying. She might have reached for her - offered her the comfort and solace of her arms.

As it was, she just looked at her for a moment. At the slight darkness under her eyes, and slightly too-large cut of her clothing. 

“Exactly this.” Sylvanas responded evenly. Whether or not she actually was, she seemed unaffected. 

Jaina felt pain lance through her anew.

“So it's true, then.” Jaina continued quietly - though there was a certain measure of steel in her voice. 

“What?” Sylvanas asked. “Is what true?”

“I didn't come here to play games, Sylvanas. Nor did I come here to be patronized.” Jaina was furious. And Sylvanas knew it. She took a step forward and Jaina lifted a hand between them to stop her, only to find a steely grip wrapping around her wrist.

“If you mean to throw a tantrum, I would request that you take us somewhere where you can do so privately.” Sylvanas’s voice was low. Even. A warning. Perhaps a plea. Jaina didn't care. With a crackling of barely-contained energy, they were gone from the ruins. 

Jaina hadn't made it an easy journey for her like she often did. Sylvanas was still stumbling a moment later and trying to regain breath she didn't even need to take as she struggled to ascertain exactly where they were. All while Jaina watched with tears she refused to shed still burning as they pooled in her eyes.

“Let us talk amongst your ghosts instead of mine.” Jaina whispered as Sylvanas looked around at both familiar and unfamiliar walls.

The Spire, then. Jaina had chosen Windrunner Spire. 

“I don't want to be here.” Sylvanas grated out through bared fangs while her head still spun and she forced herself to stand still.

“You don't want to be anywhere, Sylvanas. Trust me, I am aware.”

“I am in no mood to be accused.” Sylvanas spat bitterly in response, despite how she warred with her own muddled thoughts. Despite the fact that she knew she was only hurting this woman more. This woman who had once been her entire world. 

“Accused?” Jaina asked as she clenched her fist to stop her hands shaking. “There is now ‘accused’. I _know_ what you tried to do.”

“Do you?” Sylvanas asked as the red of her eyes flared dangerously. “Do you know that I only wanted peace? Peace that I have earned a hundred times over? Do you know that I also wanted peace for you, yet you can't see through your own selfish, _childish_ needs to know that to be true? Do you know what I _saw_? What I now know was stolen from me? No, of course not.” Sylvanas was pacing now, like a caged tiger as the banshees outside wailed in response to her agitation. “Even if I had found peace, you would drag me from it to keep me. To keep pretending I am now who I was then. You were a _child_. And I might as well have been. Children who believed in fairy tales and happy endings. But I suppose I am the only one who has to face the harsh reality of the lie that that was. I will remain unchanged and you will tire of your animated _plaything_ and then what?”

Sylvanas stopped in her tracks as she heard Jaina choke back a sob. She faltered, for a moment, in her conviction. “Don't look at me like that.” Sylvanas breathed. “Like some beaten pup.”

“You dare call me selfish.” Jaina whispered breathlessly. “Sylvanas, if I knew how to give you peace, I would stop at nothing to give it to you.”

“And if it meant losing me?” Sylvanas demanded in a quiet, yet firm voice.

Jaina faltered. Sylvanas sneered.

“I thought not.” 

For a while, they were quiet. Jaina managed to keep her sobs at bay, and the light in Sylvanas’s eyes dulled slightly. It was clear she was running out of steam. Jaina walked slowly across the room to a bed they had once shared often, and sat down in the dust and decay. It was symbolic in so many terrible ways. 

Sylvanas made her way to a chair very near the bed, and despite how fluidly she moved - she still stirred a small storm of dust motes into the air when she sat. Her boots weren't terribly interesting, but she stared down at them all the same. 

“Nothing has ever hurt like this.” Jaina finally managed to get out past the uncomfortable feeling in her throat. “Perhaps if you had told me, I would have understood.”

Sylvanas’s ear shifted faintly in Jaina’s direction. “It would not have mattered. In time, you would have understood regardless.” 

“How noble of you.” Jaina responded, sarcasm dripping from her every word. “To martyr both of us.”

“Noble?” Sylvanas asked as she inclined her head only slightly in Jaina’s direction. “There is no nobility in the choice I made, and even less in my coming back. If I were you, I would question that I ever loved you as a result. The woman you knew would have endured an eternity of torment if it meant you would be free of whatever it is that I now am. I remember that much.” 

“Should I then?” Jaina asked, sounding as numb as she suddenly felt. “Should I question that you ever loved me?” It wouldn't be out of keeping at all. It wouldn't even be unexpected. She had always felt as though she was on borrowed time with Sylvanas. Even looking back on it, now - it had been almost like a fantasy. Something from one of her books. When these rooms were warm and the light that filtered in through these windows was as soft and gentle as Sylvanas had been, then. 

Funny, how it was still Jaina who was out of place, now. Alive, here, in this cold world of decay. Even Sylvanas was cold, now. Jaina could see her trying to work through things that had once been a part of her very nature. She could see the sharpness of her keen eyes grow distant and disengaged. And she was so still. Her chest didn't even rise and fall with the breaths she usually took in Jaina’s presence. 

“I'll take you back, now. If that's what you want.”

“It's been so long since I could say that I know what I want.” Sylvanas said quietly. “Do you know what that's like?” Sylvanas looked at her, then, and looked lost. Lost in a way that made Jaina want to swallow her own pain to make room for hers.

“Not in the same way that you do, I would imagine.” Jaina admitted just as softly. “I think the closest I must come is when I'm with you. When I know that the only decision to be made is one that I am unable to make.”

“Perhaps you can see why I tried to make it for you.” Sylvanas suggested as she stood and took the few steps that brought her to stand in front of Jaina. 

Jaina nearly lost it again when Sylvanas lifted a hand and stroked some of her rain-wet hair from her face. “I did love you. With everything that I was. With everything that was taken from me.” 

Jaina turned her face towards Sylvanas’s gloved palm out of instinct, breathing in the smell of leather as she shut her eyes tightly and nodded. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. So she reached for Sylvanas, who allowed herself to be pulled closer until Jaina’s face was pressed just beneath her chest. Hidden. Safe from the scrutiny of Sylvanas’s gaze.

Yet, if she had looked, she would know that there was only sadness there. Regret. 

“Don't leave me here.” Jaina whispered as a shudder wracked her body, and Sylvanas moved her hand slowly to the back of her head. She would have removed her glove to feel Jaina's hair, but it would be of no use. It had been years since she felt those fine, silken strands slip through her fingertips. No matter how many times since then she had buried her hands in it. “I'm begging you not to leave me here.”

Those words, though, were something Sylvanas felt in her gut. Something that drew her closer and had her wrapping her other arm around Jaina's shoulders. “I won't.” 

“Promise me. I don't care if it's selfish. Promise me you'll stay. Even if I'm not worth fighting for, promise me you'll keep fighting. It could change. It could always change, Sylvanas. But you have to be here for that to happen.” 

Sylvanas was torn. Torn between walking away from the intensity of hearing those words and feeling Jaina shake in her arms and the shock of being told that someone, anyone - unequivocally wanted her. Someone that needed absolutely nothing from her that involved her power or influence or politics. Someone that stubbornly clung to the little shreds of her that would be left if all those things were stripped away. 

Sylvanas chose not to walk away. Instead, she knelt slowly and cradled Jaina’s face in her hands to look up into her eyes. “I promise you that I will stay. You needn't beg…” She trailed off for a moment as Jaina wrapped her hands around her wrists, then shook her head almost imperceptibly. “Please don't beg me for anything. Don't reduce yourself to that.”

“For this, I would. For your life, I absolutely would. And I will, every time.” 

Sylvanas has never stopped being able to recognize that tone. That was one rare constant in her life. “Then I will do everything in my power to never again give you reason to. I may not know what I want, but it certainly isn't that.”

Jaina only dug her fingertips in firmly enough that she knew Sylvanas would feel them and then drew in a slow, even breath that left her again without any semblance of control. These moments were what Sylvanas found to be the most difficult. Moments when parts of her screamed for her to do things she no longer fully understood. Like all the reasoning behind the impulses were gone. Perhaps it was just muscle memory. Perhaps that's what had her catching Jaina's tears with the leather of her gloves before they could fall. Perhaps her lips more vividly remembered what she was now shadowed and warped in her mind. The kiss felt as once-removed to her as the memories of all the kisses they had shared. 

But that didn't matter to Sylvanas. What mattered was getting Jaina to calm down. What mattered was convincing her because if she couldn't push her away, she had to avoid _this_ at all costs. 

Pain. One of the few emotions she still felt as vividly as if she were still living. Perhaps more so. Like a knife cutting into her chest and reopening already festering wounds. And it _hurt_ to see Jaina suffer.

Anger. The burning in her veins that she had to suppress at all costs that only flared more viciously when she hurt. Because what she held in her hands was fragile, now. In so many ways. And as many times as Jaina had assured her she could hold her own, Sylvanas wasn't so certain Jaina truly would cause her any real harm if it became necessary. 

So, situations like this were to be avoided. Jaina couldn't suffer, because Sylvanas couldn't hurt. And her lips and her fingertips remembered how to provide a distraction when her muddled mind was at a loss. 

It was just a few moments. A brush of lips across Jaina’s and a graze of her fingertips along the delicate lines of her jaw and down the sides of her neck. Too light, almost. She already struggled to feel, and through the gloves- there was nothing. Nothing but that terrifyingly mortal fragility. 

“I am sorry, Jaina.”

“You aren't.” Jaina replies quietly as she brushed the bridge of her nose against Sylvanas's chin so she would lift it enough to allow Jaina to smell the oils that scented her neck. “I don't need you to lie to me.” Before her statement could cause any offense, Jaina slipped a hand into Sylvanas’s hood to touch the nape of her neck. “I mean that.”

“I'm not apologizing for the choice I made. I'm apologizing for what that choice did to you. I know how deeply it wounds you to be angry with me. And I know how you fear being alone. You must, if you cling so desperately to this visage.”

“You cling to it just as tightly. You could end this whenever you choose. There will always be a part of you that needs me. It's that that I won't ever let go of. The part of you that's terrified that one day you might succeed in your attempts at alienating yourself from me.”

Fear. Cold and familiar and insidious. Fear that Jaina was right. Fear that there was still something in this world that she needed. Fear that she yet had something to lose. 

Sylvanas wasn't even aware the mask had slipped. She wasn't even aware of the way she inclined her head into Jaina's touch and looked through her instead of at her because to truly see her right now would have been too much. 

“The valkyr...the beings that you saw with me in Lordaeron, they won't allow me to stay in the darkness if I venture there again.”

Jaina’s brow furrowed and her hand gripped the back of Sylvanas's neck more fervently. “What do you mean, they won't allow you to?”

“If I die, Jaina. If I die, one of them will take my place, and I'll return.” 

Jaina was torn. The blow of realizing that Sylvanas had, in fact, died was softened by knowing the nature of the creatures that were now protecting her. Softened by knowing this could feel just a little more permanent. It was strange how delicate Sylvanas’s very existence seemed sometimes. But then, it would have been difficult to have lost someone as utterly and as many times as Jaina had lost her and not feel that way.

“I would rather you didn't die again, really. But it's good to know that you'll come back to me.” Jaina noticed that Sylvanas wasn't quite so still, anymore. That she was breathing the quiet, steady breaths Jaina was used to. For her, no doubt. But Jaina would take what she could get. 

Sylvanas sighed quietly and it was clear she'd given up the fight yet again. It became even clearer when she nuzzled at Jaina’s neck because at least she could still smell her. At least there was still that familiarity. The nuzzling became more. Became a gloved hand against the opposite side of Jaina’s neck as Sylvanas’s lips graced her skin with kisses that felt like they used to. That had taken time. It had taken Sylvanas so much time to allow herself to remember how to be gentle. It was difficult to be gentle when you couldn't feel, though - so she focused so much attention on Jaina and the way she moved and sounded that it was like being examined beneath a glass lens. 

Sylvanas paused and went still in response to a rather loud, persistent wail outside the spire and Jaina quieted the slight heaviness of her breathing as quickly as she could. 

“It was cruel of me to bring you here. I was hurt, and it was childish.” Jaina said softly as Sylvanas lowered her head against the mage’s shoulder. 

“You wanted to hurt me in return, Jaina. It likely wasn't even a conscious decision. It's in everyone's nature. Even yours.” 

“Let me be sorry.” Jaina responded with a slight waver in her voice.

Sylvanas realized then that this would have been normal. That Jaina attempting to lash out at her likely warranted an apology. She also knew apologies were rarely for the people receiving them, and much more often for relieving the burden of ones own guilt. 

“You needn't be sorry now. I understand that you are. But you can let it go. Just take me somewhere else, please. I can't...I can't do anything for you and listen to them.” She had to be able to focus. To hear the subtle changes in Jaina’s breathing and any sounds she tried to choke back. 

Jaina slumped forward slightly and Sylvanas wrapped an arm around her back carefully. It was much easier this time. There was no crackle of wasted energy - no feeling like the floor dropped out from beneath her. She just lifted her head and they were in her own private chambers in the Undercity. Where Sylvanas was most comfortable. 

Jaina had been here so many times. Here, she had shown more patience and grace than she even knew she had in her to show. And as Sylvanas lifted her with a lack of effort that should have been terrifying, she simply pressed close and allowed herself to be lowered onto the bed that she had no way of knowing was only ever used with her. 

Sylvanas looked down at Jaina as she settled against the bed, and removed her gloves to toss them aside before reaching for Jaina’s hands and pulling them up to pin them loosely against the pillow. “Don't be angry with me.” 

“You died. On purpose. I'm going to be angry with you.” Jaina replied simply, though her brow furrowed when Sylvanas’s face fell slightly. “I'm angry with you for giving up.” Jaina continued carefully. “You promised me you wouldn't. You promised me forever. I'll go to my grave holding you to that. Whether or not it's like this...I need to know you're still in this world.”

Sylvanas exhaled slowly and released Jaina’s hands to gather some of her hair into her own, instead. She again avoided Jaina’s eyes as she leaned in and brushed the tip of her nose along Jaina’s cheek towards her ear. “And if I need it to be like this?” 

Sylvanas was already untying her leggings as she spoke, and before Jaina could answer - she had moved along to her shirt, though this - she lifted slowly. She allowed her thumbs to graze leave their cool contrast along the warmth of Jaina’s skin. 

“Then it will be.” Jaina admitted as Sylvanas lifted her shirt from her entirely. The cloak went along with it - and it was a relief to be rid of the damp heaviness of it, even if Sylvanas’s rooms were always just a little too cold. And Jaina knew that it would. She knew that she craved feeling this as much as Sylvanas craved the idea of making Jaina feel it. 

With one of Sylvanas's hands on her hip, she was guided over and into her stomach, and Sylvanas lowered her head to breathe a request between the blades of her shoulders. “The lights.”

With an easy gesture, they were extinguished. Then, a request came that caused Jaina’s breath to catch in her throat. 

“Can you make me warm?” 

“What do you mean, Sylvanas?”

Sylvanas’s forehead came to rest against the small of her back and the cool palms of her hands ran the length of Jaina’s thighs before she murmured into her skin. “Make me warm. You're cold. You're always cold here.”

Jaina hesitated. Sylvanas gripped her thighs and then let them go as her eyes shut and she reached up to find one of Jaina’s hands, twining their fingers together slowly. “Make me warm. I want to feel chills along your arms for a reason other than that I am not any longer.” 

“That isn't why…” Jaina trailed off and shuddered when she felt Sylvanas’s thigh slide between her legs to spread them, followed by enough pressure to make her ache terribly for more. “I can try. Please tell me if it's uncomfortable for you.”

Sylvanas nodded close enough to Jaina that she could feel it, then went quiet as Jaina paused long enough to think. 

Sylvanas didn't recognize the language Jaina was murmuring. All she knew was she spent the first few moments regretting her request. It was stifling. The heat spreading through her threatened to steal the breath from her lungs. 

Yet, as she tried to steady her breathing against Jaina’s back, she didn't miss the sharp intake of breath that came from the mage. 

“I've never worked that spell on an unliving body. Please tell me you're okay.” It was difficult to gather the wherewithal to ask that question. Because Sylvanas was _warm_. Truly warm. Her rapid breaths against her back, her fingertips along her side. Jaina felt blanketed by it. Protected by it, as she had when she was younger. When Sylvanas had been alive. 

“Shh…quiet, now.” Sylvanas whispered to avoid breaking the illusion of life. To avoid the cold, hollow echo of her own voice shattering it all. 

Jaina’s brow furrowed and she buried the worry back where it had come from even as she buried her face into the pillow she’d pulled closer to herself without even meaning to. 

Sylvanas undressed in the darkness above her. Quickly, and kept a hand on Jaina somewhere as often as she could. But it wasn't until the first time Sylvanas lowered herself again that Jaina truly felt the warmth. In the hardness of her muscles and the soft curves of her breasts as they pressed into her back. In the thighs that spread on either side of her to give them both room as Sylvanas slid a hand between Jaina’s stomach and the bed. 

It wasn't the least difficult position Sylvanas could have chosen, but it allowed Jaina to feel more of her as soft, full hips canted up against her own. In the dark, Sylvanas could still see Jaina rather clearly, even if the mage couldn't see her.

So, when Jaina turned her head so she could breathe, Sylvanas got to watch as she nearly tore holes into the dark silk of her pillows when fingertips found her clit.

It was the first time in so long that the shock of cold hadn't driven that gasp from her. 

It was the first time in so long Sylvanas could know that it was the deftness of her touch that was making Jaina writhe up against her, and not the adjustment to the temperature of it. 

And as unbearable as the heat was, Sylvanas found that it was worth it. Especially when Jaina was pouring ragged cries into her bedcovers while Sylvanas worked at her clit that told her as clearly as the tensing in Jaina’s body that she was already coming. 

Sylvanas rode out the intensity of Jaina’s orgasm with her. Every heave. Every shudder. Her arm stayed wrapped tightly around her chest. Her hand stayed between thighs that threatened to close against it until Jaina collapsed down into the bed.

Sylvanas was turning her onto her back before she could even think of catching her breath and delving between her legs. The way Jaina's hands flew to grip her hair didn't stop her. The way her thighs were still quaking didn't, either - and Sylvanas delved between them and found her center with the newfound heat of her mouth.

Jaina went utterly still. Completely silent. Rigid. 

Sylvanas looked up at her as her tongue finished the slow work of parting her still over-sensitive flesh to find her clit again, and she found Jaina’s head thrown back and her wide eyes rolling to join it. 

So, she continued. She thrust her tongue into Jaina as deeply as she could until the shudders of over-stimulation finally ebbed. 

And Jaina began to remember what this had been like. This exquisite, perfect velvet fire burning between her legs - circling her clit and then guiding it between equally warm lips so it could be sucked at in slow, deep, rhythmic ways that she had only ever known with Sylvanas. 

Jaina wondered, somewhere far back in her mind, if it had been this good all those years ago. She wondered, as Sylvanas’s fingertips bruised her thighs, if she preferred this on some level. The barely-contained strength and emotion that roiled within Sylvanas and warred with her senses and her judgement.

But those thoughts were pushed out of her grasp when her hips were lifted and Sylvanas’s mouth threatened to consume her senses entirely. Jaina didn't have to worry about how hard she pulled at the other woman's hair or how deeply she dug her nails into her shoulders when she came again. For that, she was thankful. The moans of unabashed pleasure that left her sounded almost like sobs, it was all so overwhelming.

By the time Sylvanas lowered her back to the bed, Jaina was aware enough to notice just how heavy the Banshee Queen’s breathing was as she rested her face against her stomach.

“You're too hot.” Jaina whispered breathlessly, immediately unraveling the spell she'd cast over her.

Relief flooded Sylvanas as the burning beneath her skin subsided. But in those few precious moments when her body had been draped against Jaina between her legs, she had given the mage all that she'd hoped to and more.

She'd given her a reminder. Something to make her memories more vivid. More real. 

An apology, at the cost of her own comfort and pleasure. And Jaina stroked slowly along one of her ears in response to that realization. 

“I'm not going to do that again.” Jaina whispered, and Sylvanas only nodded weakly. It took her a while to pull herself away from Jaina and lay next to her on the bed, but as much as she wanted to continue being what she believed Jaina needed - she also desperately needed to cool off.

Sylvanas was quiet as she lamented the days she would bask in the sun of her homeland. Of the days they had created their own magic without any need for spells or enchantments.

Jaina did the same, as she reactivated the enchantments over the lamps in the chamber and left them low. Just enough to cast a glow over them. To reveal Sylvanas’s scarred, lifeless skin and the low wilt of her still-delicate ears. 

Red eyes lifted to meet her own slowly, and Jaina offered her a smile that was more of a question than anything else.

“Did you find that...enjoyable?” Sylvanas asked quietly, sliding one of her hands along the bedcovers, though it stopped before it reached the other woman.

Jaina bridged that small distance for her, covering her hand with her own. “I did, yes. But you shouldn't sacrifice yourself for me. For anyone. But especially not for me.”

Sylvanas remained quiet and her expression stayed passive.

“The thought of losing you is absolutely terrifying.” Jaina continued, despite how her heart still pounded against the walls of her chest as the pleasant, sated feeling that had washed over her settled into her more deeply. “This life is so difficult. So unkind. To have done what it's done to you. Believe me, I know. But you are so much more than you believe yourself to be. It may not be in your words anymore. Or your thoughts. But your actions betray you. When you are alone with me, and there are no other eyes on you, there is so much more of you left than you think. There is so much more beauty in you than you think.”

“Is it so wrong to have believed I might find peace beyond this?” Sylvanas asked - her voice still soft in a way Jaina rarely heard it, anymore.

“No.” Jaina swallowed thickly. “I can't fault you for seeking it. Do you...do you find any of it here? With me? Any at all?”

“I...I find something. Something soft and familiar. Like a language that's both beautiful and incomprehensible. Like a language I would like to speak, but the learning of it is just beyond my grasp. I find something that stills my thoughts, and dulls the things that are most unbearable. I worry, sometimes, that I am only pretending. That I'm merely playing at being the lover that I was to you.”

“It never feels like a game to me, Sylvanas. Even if your tongue doesn't speak the language anymore, you speak it in the way that you touch me. Your fingertips remember each pen stroke. And there is a part of it still left in your mind. It shows itself to me. When your eyes are soft like they are now. When the fire in your gaze doesn't threaten to burn everything it touches. It warms me in the same way that it used to on those lazy mornings when I woke to you looking at me.”

Sylvanas smiled. Her features softened and became almost as familiar as she had felt only moments in the dark. “If this is the only peace I will ever know again, then it will suffice.” She said, and Jaina turned onto her side to move close enough to press a light kiss to her brow.

“You see?” Jaina asked as she settled down again. “You may not be as fluent as you once were, but it's there. It's different, yes. But I would have to be blind to not see it and deaf to not hear it.” 

Sylvanas didn't respond, but Jaina hadn't expected her to. Instead, she tried her hand at stroking through Jaina's hair and along her back. She even splayed her fingers against the small of it to draw her closer before Jaina tucked her head beneath her chin in yet another familiar gesture. 

“I won't do it again, Jaina. I'm not going to leave you.” 

_I can’t...I couldn't…_

The words were there. 

In the overgrown pathways of her mind. Nestled safely away from their ravaged surroundings.

They were quiet.

But they were still there.

And, for better or worse, so was she.

"Imperfection"  
Evanescence

The more you try to fight it  
The more you try to hide it  
The more infected, rejected, you feel alone inside it  
You know you can't deny it  
The world's a little more fucked up everyday

I'm gonna save you from it  
Together we'll outrun it  
Just don't give into the fear  
So many things I would've told you  
If I knew that I was never gonna see you again

I wanna lift you up into the light that you deserve  
I wanna take your pain into myself so you won't hurt

Don't you dare surrender  
Don't leave me here without you  
Cause I could never  
Replace your perfect imperfection

The way you look us over  
Your counterfeit composure  
Pushing again and again and sinking lower and lower  
The world is on our shoulders  
Do you really know the weight of the words you say?

You want a little of it  
You just can't let go of it  
You've got an ego to feed  
Too late to rise above it  
Don't look now but the little girl's got a grenade

I'm gonna lift you up into the light that you deserve  
I'm gonna take you down to the real world so you can watch it burn

Don't you dare surrender  
Don't leave me here without you  
Cause I could never  
Replace your perfect imperfection

We stand undefined  
Can't be drawn with a straight line  
This will not be our ending  
We are alive, we are alive

Don't you dare surrender  
Don't leave me here without you  
Cause I could never  
Replace your perfect imperfection


End file.
